


Won’t Look Down, Won’t Open My Eyes

by JTHM_Michi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Derek didn't go back to Beacon Hills, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Protective Erica Reyes, it's kate argent and all of those problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2375702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTHM_Michi/pseuds/JTHM_Michi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles meet at a New York club and accidentally swap phones. Derek has Kate trauma and Stiles doesn’t mind. AU where Derek never followed Laura back home but things still happened. It was supposed to be short and sweet and then plot happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won’t Look Down, Won’t Open My Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a popular text post of tumblr about swapping phones at a party, this turned into a piece more about Derek lingering Kate Argent-shapped issues and Stiles being super cool about it. 
> 
> Also, the things Allison says about drinks and "leading people on" are not my opinions. 
> 
> In regards to the flashbacks we have of Kate and Derek, it's only a few lines of dialogue but you can get the hint of what's happening. It's in italics and only at in the first part, at the club, so if you want to skip those parts, you won't loose any of the context.

“Derek, come dance with me.” Erica demands and Derek finishes his drink to follow her out onto the dance floor because he is a pushover. Also, kind of freaking out from the overwhelming smell of lust and that fact that people keep sending him drinks that he doesn’t drink and flirting with him.

She wraps her arms around his shoulders when they get to a good enough spot and pulls him against her. She shouts into his ear that this is the best party ever and isn’t he glad he left his comfortable apartment and still not finished manuscript to come with her to this club? He’s not, of course not, he’s much rather be at home listening to Kira’s latest song and writing his novel while contemplating how many new Lady Gaga knockoffs he’d have to kill if Kira didn’t get picked up by a record company soon. But no, instead he’s here because he can’t say no to his best friend.

Erica turns in his arms, throwing her arms above her head, and moving to the beat. Derek puts his hands on her hips and moves with her, ducking his head down obediently when one of her hands goes into his hair. She smells like happiness, coconuts, and hairspray but he doesn’t mind because he does like to dance, even if the only person he can dance with like this is Erica. He knows she’s not going to touch his ass or dick and she won’t rub off on him or be expecting him to rub off on her. She’s his friend and she protects him from stuff like that.

“See, this isn’t so bad.” Erica says to him, tilting her head back to rest it on his shoulder so she can speak into his ear. He grunts and the music changes, something more upbeat and Erica squeals as they change their rhythm to match. She shouts the lyrics and Derek laughs against her neck.

He drags her back to the bar an hour later and asks for two Whiskey and Ginger Ale’s. Erica knocks hers back without a grimace and Derek downs half of his.

“My phone’s vibrating; I’ll be right back!” Erica shouts to him and he nods to show he heard her. He watches her leave, mostly just to make sure no one follows her out. Erica can take care of herself, he knows full well, but the last thing they need is to be banned from yet another club because some douchebags thought Erica was just a piece of ass. She passes a group of people and Derek’s eyes linger on one of them – a young guy, probably still in college, laughing at something.

He’s cute: moles dotted across his face, lips full and plump, hair just long enough to be the perfect length to run his fingers through it. He’s lithe and wearing a red and green shirt that shows off his broad shoulders and when he throws his head back to laugh his neck is pale and unmarked. Derek wants to put his teeth on it, suck a mark into the skin and see if it sticks. Cute Guy looks up then and their eyes meet and hold for a few seconds. Cute Guy gives a half smirk, one that speaks of confidence, and Derek feels the tips of his ears heat up and looks to his drink.

He finishes it off, putting the glass onto the table, and sneaks a look back in Cute Guy’s direction. He’s gone and Derek tries not to let himself feel disappointed – what would he have done anyway, gone over and asked for a dance? Yeah, that would have ended well – he’d have put the guy off when he ran off in fright the first time he touched Derek’s stomach or ass. Never mind what would have happened if he wrapped his arms around Derek and grinded against him – oh yeah, having a panic attack in the middle of a club is _super fun_.

“Boyd says Isaac got arrested at the protest, he posted bail already and he’s dragging the pup to a cheap motel for the night.” Erica announces as she comes back. Derek groans at the thought of Isaac in a jail cell, Jesus that could have ended badly. “I know, right? He only got arrested because some teenager was about to get grabbed so he stepped in to give her time to run away - he’s gonna get shot or something and then where will we be?” Erica continues, signaling the bartender. Derek groans again, trying not to imagine the cluster fuck that would happen if Isaac got _shot_ by police at a protest – that would not end well.

When the bartender comes back with Erica’s order of Vodka on the rocks with a splash of orange juice she sets down a colorful drink in front of Derek, who frowns at it.

“The gentlemen at the end of the bar sent this over.” She says as she squeezes an orange slice into the drink and walks away. Derek looks over, intending to glare at the guy and push the drink away, but finds himself looking at Cute Guy, who grins when he sees he’s being watched. His ears heat up again because they’re ridiculous that way and he takes a cautious sip of the drink in front of him. It’s fruity and there’s a lot of juices in it and a darker rum if his tongue isn’t playing tricks on him. He likes it and its gone in three gulps.

“Derek Hale, did you just down a whole drink from a guy trying to pick you up? Is the world ending? Are unicorns feasting on virgins instead of rapists? Are you about to have acute liver failure from alcohol poisoning, because that’s the closest we can get to drunk?” Erica asks incredulously of him, clearly amused.

“Shut up.” He says. Erica cackles next to him, drawing stares, and he shoves her lightly. She sways a bit on her feet before she darts forward to get him in a headlock. He tries wiggling away from her but doesn’t manage to get away before she messed his hair up royally and smacks a wet kiss to his cheek. He knows she just smeared her lipstick all over him and huffs as she finally lets him up.

She’s so much like Laura it rips at his insides and so unlike her it salts the wounds. Laura would have put him in a headlock and taken out her lipstick to draw on his forehead and then smeared her eye shadow across his nose and lips. And then she would have dragged him over to Cute Guy and made him try to talk to the guy like that. Erica just messes with him and lets him make his own decisions. He supposed that was the difference between an older sister and a friend who was just _like_ a sister. Erica goes back to the dance floor while he’s trying to wipe her lipstick off his cheek. Derek tries to subtly look around for Cute Guy and can’t seem to find him.

“You shouldn’t lead guys on like that if you’re here with your girlfriend. You very pointedly didn’t drink any of the other drinks I’ve brought to you, so it was a dick move to purposely do that and then have your girlfriend put a ‘Just Kidding, No Homo!’ move on you.” The bartender says to him and there’s enough of a lull in people asking for her attention that she’s planted herself right in front of him. Her face is set in a glare, mouth pursed and with the lighting and her dark hair she looked dangerous and royally pissed. She also looks uncomfortably like –

_“Derek, I’m only asking you for this little thing, don’t you love me?”_

“What?” He chokes out, shoving the memory away and concentrating on the here and now. He also takes a moment to try and figure out if he should be offended by her words. If he had drank any of those other drinks, would that have been leading them on even though the drinks were already paid for and there hadn’t been so much as a “hello” exchanged?

“Clubbing is hard for people, you know, and getting the courage to send a drink to a guy like you should at least be met with honestly. You were willing to be straight with the others - what, because he looked less like a salary man or body builder you thought you could make fun of him?” She continues, still sounding pissed, and Derek wishes Erica hadn't left him.

“Oh my god, Allison, stop trying to get yourself fired! Also, I think those guys want drinks or possibly just your number, can’t tell from here.” Cute Guy says as he appears next to Derek where Erica usually hovers. The bartender – Allison – glares at him one more time before she walks down the bar. Derek turns to look at Cute Guy and up close he can see his eyes – they’re a dark amber color and when the light hits them they look like honey. Jesus, who made this guy? He’s stupidly attractive for a human. And he _is_ a human, he smells 100% human, so what gives with the unfair hotness?

“Erica’s not my girlfriend.” He says bluntly, wanting to make sure that is out of the way. Cute Guy looks over at him startled.

“Yeah?” He asks and now that he’s just talking to him and not across the bar to his apparent friend, his voice even sounds hot – warm and smooth. Christ.

“She’s my friend, she dragged me here for a co-worker’s party – her co-worker, not mine. She’s here to keep me from getting felt up by creeps and to deter anyone flirting with me.” Derek says quickly, words spilling out of his mouth in a way they usually only do through a keyboard. He wants to punch himself in the face, that was so not smooth, but Cute Guy is smiling at him.

“Do I count as a creep?” He asks teasingly, leaning forward. He’s got a little bit of stubble on his jawline, barely there, and Derek swallows.

“No, you’re fine. I mean…oh my god, I’m not usually this bad at this.” Derek says, covering his face with his hands, and wishing the floor would swallow him up. He tried so hard to obey the rules but flirting was hard and it made him nervous and Kate never liked it –

Cute Guy took his hand and pulled it away from his face, chuckling, and his fingers were long and thin and the pads were smooth. He was still smiling at him.

“I’m usually a complete spaz but I was pretty sure I had negative chances with you and now it looks like I’m actually in the running so I’m kind of on cloud nine of smooth and awesome. Do you want to dance? With me?” Cute Guy asks, thumb rubbing across the top of Derek’s hand. The hand that he was still holding. Derek wanted to say yes and to hell with his fears and hang ups but…what if Cute Guy got too close right off the bat?

“I’m not really good at dancing.” He says lamely and isn’t surprised when Cute Guy lets go of his hand and frowns at him in confusion.

“I saw you with your friend, so I’m going to come out and ask the blunt question: Are you having a gay crisis or freak out? Because I get it, but I’m not really into that these days so…” Cut Guy trails off and Derek could take that opening. He could take that excuse and run away with his tail between his legs. He could leave right now and never see Cute Guy again and deal with another round of Erica leaving cards around their apartment to therapists and support groups. He could do that but…

“No, it’s not a gay freak out. I’m bi actually, but it’s more of a general freak out? Dancing with Erica is okay but everyone else makes me nervous and…I’m sorry, you’re probably looking for a guy to have a good, fun time with and I’m not really that guy. Sorry.” He apologizes, wishing he had a drink to clutch at and use as a distraction. He wishes there were less people in this club so he could get an exact pin for Cute Guy’s scent before he left.

“How about I keep my hands to myself and you tell me if there’s anything else you need from me and we can try a dance? Or we can sit here and continue talking, or I can leave you alone, I’m okay with any of those options. I’d prefer one of the first two, but I get it. I’m not a creep and I’ll totally leave you alone if you tell me to.” Cute Guy says, starting to sound like the spaz he apparently usually is. It was cute.

“A dance does sound nice.” Derek says and Cute Guy lights up. He bounces up and waves Derek behind him, making sure Derek is following him through the throng of bodies. He chooses a spot by the wall that’s less crowded because of its position and turns to face Derek with a huge smile on his face.

“Is it okay if I put my hands on your shoulders?” He shouts the question to be heard over the heavy thrum of the bass. Derek nods tensely and Cute Guy puts his hands on his shoulders gently, stepping closer but not too close. Derek relaxes and Cute Guy takes that as his cue to start to move. It’s a little strange to dance with at least an inch between you, especially at a club, but Cute Guy doesn't let that bother him. He moves his whole body to the music, tossing his head and twisting his hips; and even his fingers move across the tops of his shoulders and brush against the sides of his neck. They go through two songs before Derek feels comfortable enough to step closer to Cute Guy.

“Are you okay?” Cute Guy asks against his ear, loudly to ensure he was heard.

“Yeah, just – not to sound like a presumptuous dick – but please try not to get a boner?” Derek shouts back and really wishes he was less fucked up.

“I’ll do my best, but you are all kinds of hot, so if I start to I’ll pull away, okay?” Cute Guy says back and Derek must make a sound of some sort because Cute Guy slides his hands into his hair and rubs his head soothingly. The fact that he hasn't tried to take anything more or touch him makes Derek want to ask him for hot cocoa and dinner and possibly try to kiss him later on. It also terrifies him, because what if this is just a lead up to him asking something big from Derek that he’s not actually going to let Derek say no to?

He throws that thought out of his head and concentrates on dancing with the cute guy in his arms instead of planning worst case scenarios for a relationship they don’t even have. Cute Guy was a great dancer, he moved like the music was his puppeteer, and best of all he didn't run his hands over his abs or try to pinch his nipples.

“Can I turn around, is that okay?” Cute Guy asks and Derek nods and then is amazed at the way the guy twists in his arms, pressed back to front and yet letting space between their lower halves come into the equation. It makes Derek tentatively put his hands on Cute Guy’s hips; he doesn't pull him back, doesn't think he can handle that with a stranger, but Cute Guy just covers his hands with his own and continues to dance like this is normal.

It’s going wonderfully until another body comes up behind him and presses against his back, dick hard against his ass and hands low on his hips –

_“God, look at your little hole swallowing that toy up. Fucking animal, aren't you baby? Such a good boy, letting me mount you like the little bitch you are.”_

_“Kate, it hurts.”_

He detangles from both of them and runs to the men’s room. He doesn't have the urge to throw up or wolf out, which are both great things, and he splashes some water on his face and stares at himself in the murky mirror for a long few moments. Cute Guy is waiting for him when he comes out, looking worried and smelling frustrated. He doesn't blame him; Derek’s pretty pissed at himself too.

“I’m sorry.” He says and Cute Guy’s eyes go wide.

“What – no, you don’t have anything to be sorry about, that guy just plastered himself on you without so much as a ‘hey’ or a soft touch across your back. That’s not your fault and I would have punched the guy in the face if I wasn't worried about you – you looked really freaked out. Are you okay?” Cute Guy asks and Derek stares at him for what is probably not a socially accepted amount of time.

“Can I have your number?” Derek blurts out because what else can he say to that? Cute Guy grins at him and reaches into his pocket to fish out his phone. Derek pats at his jacket pocket for the right pocket that has his – it started in his right breast pocket but now it’s in his left side pocket – and they switch phones to add their numbers to each other’s phones. Derek puts himself in as “Derek – really particular dance partner from Zula’s”.

“Derek, hey, glad I found you; you ready to go?” Erica says from nearby and both Cute Guy and Derek turn to her. She halts misstep to look between them and then turns to look Cute Guy over – it doesn't look entirely friendly. Cute Guy swallows.

“Yeah, I’m ready. I just was getting his number.” He says lamely and Erica’s jaw clenches as she stares Cute Guy down, looking very much not pleased, and then she smiles at them. It’s not a friendly smile.

“Well, let’s go then.” She says and clamps a hand down onto Derek’s arm, dragging him towards the exit. Cute Guy shouts out that he’ll call him and Derek nods, hoping it’s the truth.

* * *

 

It’s the phone ringing that jerks him out of sleep the next morning. He fumbles for the phone before putting it to his ear.

“My deadline isn't until two weeks from now, fucking leave me alone.” He growled into the phone. He was sure it was his agent, because who else would be calling him in the morning?

“Uhh, that’s nice but I’m not actually calling for any kind of deadline. Is my son around?” A man asked, sounding awkward and hesitant. Derek blinked in confusion and sat up.

“Uh, no…I think you called the wrong number actually.” Derek said into the phone, shaking his head to wake up more.

“Nope, my phone has his number programmed into it so…this is definitely his number. You sure he’s not just in bed next to you or something? I keep telling him that I’m not going to get weird about him having partners, he’s a grown man now.” The guy said, humor in his voice. Derek grinned and on a whim pulled the phone back to look at it.

It wasn't his phone. The phone in his hand was a Samsung with a touchscreen while Derek’s was an iPhone that wasn't a touchscreen, one of the only models that didn't have a touchscreen option. He groaned and put the phone back to his ear.

“Sorry, I had to check the phone. It’s not mine, I must have grabbed your son’s yesterday – he probably has mine.” Derek said and was surprised when the man on the other end laughed.

“Yeah, that sounds like something that could happen to him. My name’s John, by the way, what’s yours?” John asked.

“Derek.” Derek responded, getting out of bed to start the coffee maker. “Do you know if your son has a roommate or someone that would be in his contacts I can call to get our phones back to their rightful owners?” He asked.

“The best would probably be either Allison or Malia; his roommate is actually Scott but that kid never answers his phone unless it’s Allison calling. Kid’s hopeless.” John said good-naturedly. Derek laughed.

“My roommate Erica’s boyfriend is like that. He never answers his cell unless it’s a blue moon or perhaps if the stars are aligned just right.” He said.

“I call my son every Saturday morning to make sure he wakes up in time to get to his weekend gig so my best guess would be that Allison would be available around noon your time and Malia around three, once her shift ends. Stiles himself – that’s my son – won’t be home until around six your time.” John said and Derek hummed as he grabbed a coffee cup.

“Is Stiles going to be able to wake up fine without your call?” Derek asked, honestly concerned. He knows full well how being late can fuck up your day – he lost his last job because he was late one time.

“He should be fine – Scott will wake him up. I didn’t wake you up after you just got to bed or anything, did I? You said something about a deadline?” John asked, concerned, and Derek wonders what it must be like to still have a dad that’s this plainly awesome.

“No, I just sleep in, no big deal. I’m a writer so my hours are all over the place – the deadline is for my new novel’s manuscript. I write fantasy, so whatever.” Derek said and John made a surprised sound.

“Novelist, huh? Figures my son would meet someone like you, kid would read in his sleep if he could.” John said with a chuckle.

“Your son…you said his name is Stiles? I don’t recognize the name…maybe we swapped phones at the club last night, though…” Derek trailed off as he thought back to last night. Erica had dragged him out before he and Cute Guy had actually gave each other’s phones back, not that he had realized that last night, meaning this Stiles is…

“Does your son have a few beauty marks across his face and brown hair? Almost six feet tall and stupidly expressive face?” Derek blurted out and John erupted into laughter.

“Beauty marks? I haven’t heard anyone call those that since my wife died when he was a preteen, but yeah that sounds like Stiles. You guys met at a club last night? Please tell me it wasn't a BDSM club or something super kinky.” John said and Derek winced as he thought of being in a Dungeon or something similar.

“No, just a regular club with dancing and a bar. Come to think of it, I think Stiles knew one of the bartenders – a girl with dark hair?” Derek questioned, hoping this phone did belong to that Cute Guy if only so he was guaranteed at least one more meet up with him.

“Hmmm, sounds like Allison, I know she freelances on Fridays.” John said, sounding fairly sure and Derek mentally did a little jig as he poured his coffee. “Anyway, did you and Stiles hit it off? He can flirt with people now, right? Can he dance or does he still look like one of those inflatable stick figures you see on the side of the road, with the fans under them?”

_“Are you okay?”_

_“Can I turn around, is that okay?”_

_He could feel the heat from Stiles’ back against his chest, the fingers in his hair twisting and pulling Derek’s head down gently so Stiles could rest his head against Derek’s shoulder, smiling softly._

“No, he’s a great dancer and really…he’s a good guy.” Derek says, trying not to say something mortifying to John about his own son.

“Wow, you sound besotted – don’t even deny it, son, I can hear that tone miles away.” John said and Derek still tried to get out a feeble denial before John went right on with: “It’s good to know he’s not going to be completely alone out there in the big city. That he at least has some moves and isn't hopeless, does my worrying heart good.”

“He seemed fine when I saw him, with his friends and happy. And he wasn't just trying to get in my pants, which was nice, so I think he’ll be fine out here. My older sister used to worry about me too but – she doesn't now.” He finishes lamely, swallowing around the pain. Laura doesn't worry about him anymore because she’s dead, not because he got to be any less of a fuck up.

“Thanks for indulging an old man, Derek. I’ll let you get back to your morning, Allison should be under Ally A and Malia will either be under her own name or something to do with coyotes – don’t ask, long story. Have a good day, kid, you sound tired.” John said. Derek thanked him and said he’d do his best to have a good day, and they hung up.

He refilled his cup and got out some bagels and cream cheese. He ate while he thought over the pros and cons of calling verses texting in this situation – do cell phone plans even have the option of paying per text now-a-day? He knows his family plan – that has him, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica on it – doesn’t but he doesn’t really know about individual plans. He supposes he can pay Stiles back if his plan does that…It’s nice to have a name for the face, too. Stiles. Strange name, but it fits he supposed. What else would he be called? Stuart?

He goes through the contacts list, finds Ally A easily, and opens a new text to send to her. Nothing for it now.

**Hi, my name’s derek. Stiles and I must have swapped phones last night, his dad said you’re the best way to get in contact with him. is he free at all today or tonight to swap our phones?**

He hits send before he over thinks it and puts the phone down. He’s awake so he might as well get writing.

A few hours later, Erica brings him a few grilled cheese sandwiches and sits down nearby to eat. The phone still hasn’t rung and Derek eats, types a few words, and ignores his best friend. Just as he hears her inhale in preparation of talking, the phone rings. The ringtone was a few cords of an upbeat pop song that Derek would never have in his phone in a million years.

**Talked to Stiles, he’ll be free from six pm onwards. The best place for us to meet would be the Lost Dog Café on Walter Street, do you know where that is? If so, we can meet you at seven?**

The text is simple and to the point. He pulls up google maps and it looks like he’d have to take the subway and then a bus, but he can manage that. He sends an affirmative and leaves the phone again. Erica is eyeing him with suspicion but whatever she was about to say seems to not be so important because she leaves him.

The day passes slowly, which is ridiculous because it’s not like he’s going on a date or anything like that. He showers at five, grabs the phone and his wallet, and almost makes it out of the apartment before Erica appears at his elbow, dressed in casual clothes like he is. He arches an eyebrow at her and she just stares him down and he leaves it at that.

It takes them about two hours to get to where they’re going and Erica seems amused as they step into the Lost Dog at 6:50. They pick a seat near the windows, the place is packed with students, and Erica looks over the menu with a smirk. He doesn't want to know so he just stares out the window.

“I think your phone thief just walked in.” Erica says and Derek whips his head to the entrance. Stiles has just walked in with the pissed off bartender from last night, though she doesn't look pissed off at the moment, and is searching the tables. “Hey, cutie!” Erica calls out and Stiles looks, sees them, and smiles before heading over.

“Wait, how did you know we were here to swap phones?” Derek asked incredulously. Erica gave him a deadpan stare that spoke to how stupid she thought he was and didn't bother with a response.

“Hey, sorry about the phone switch. I guess we didn't even realize we were still holding each other’s phones when your friend and you left last night.” Stiles said and he sat down next to Derek while Allison sat herself next to Erica.

“I didn't even realize it till your dad called me this morning.” Derek said, and pulled the phone out to put on the table. Stiles’ eyes widened and a splatter of red appeared on his cheeks.

“Oh, man, did he say something embarrassing? I bet he did, I’m sorry you had to be subjected to him.” Stiles groaned and Derek shrugged.

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you last night.” Allison said from across from them and Derek may have started a bit. He’d forgotten she and Erica were still there.

“It’s okay.” He said just as Erica turned in her seat to glare at Allison and said:

“Excuse me? And, no, Derek, it’s not okay that she was a bitch to you.” In a downright poisonous voice.

“You weren't even there at the time!” Derek said. Erica waved a hand at him in a dismissive manner.

“I apologized, what more do you want from me?” Allison asked, not sounding pleased.

“Maybe that’s not good enough; he doesn't have to accept your apology.” Erica snapped back and Derek groaned, turning from the girls to look back at Stiles.

“Yeah, I also have an apology to deliver. I looked through your photos, sorry, I tried to stop myself but the curiosity was too much for me.” Stiles said. He fished out Derek’s phone from his hoodie pocket and gave it to Derek. He looked down at it and saw that the wallpaper was still an old photo of him and Laura grinning while the Statue of Liberty can be seen in the background.

“She’s pretty.” Stiles said and Derek nodded, dragging his eyes away from the image to talk to him properly.

“She was my older sister.” He said and Stiles hummed, reaching out to pat Derek’s hand.

“Okay, concerned friends, your time is now done. I’m going to buy Derek – thank you Erica for his name – dinner and our date does not need to be chaperoned. Shoo.” Stiles announced to Erica and Allison, who were still arguing with each other.  Allison stopped mid-word and stood up, obviously okay with this plan. Erica turned to Derek, cocking her head to the side in question.

“Yeah, that sounds nice. Erica, go home we might have dessert later.” Derek said to his friend and Stiles grinned at him. Erica looked between the two of them before smiling. She leaned over and kissed Derek on the cheek softly before standing to leave.

As the girls left, Stiles turned to Derek and asked:

“Can I put my arm around you or would that be too much?”

Derek beamed.


End file.
